An Eternity Before My Eyes
by metro.max
Summary: Written for 31 days at livejournal; edward/tanya, edward/bella; august 30 - beLIEve
1. in this world you overwhelm me

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight, New Moon, or Eclipse, which were all written by Stephenie Meyer.

**Prompt: **July 11 / discreetly trying to catch attention

**Author's Notes: **This was written for 31days over at livejournal. I won't be writing a story for all 31 days, obviously, but I am working for as many as I can. :)

* * *

_in this world she overwhelms me_

They're fighting, practicing, preparing for twenty bloodthirsty newborn vampires whose only goal is to rip them to shreds.

Emmett circles him carefully, eyes sharp, thought of his evening last night with Rosalie an uncomfortable backdrop for Edward.

Emmett acts on instinct, but his thoughts always betray him a second too soon. Edward locks his arms around Emmett's neck and brings his teeth to his brother's throat; Emmett thrashes pointlessly.

"I think we have a winner," Jasper announces to the crowd, and Edward releases a swearing Emmett from his grasp.

A smile on his face, victory in his heart, Edward turns to his family and asks challengingly, "Anyone else?"

A short silence, almost in anticipation, then: "I will."

His breathing hitches as he hears the voice; he instinctively tenses as his two worlds collide.

She steps lithely into the ring, not a care in the world.

"Tanya," Carlisle chokes out, his eyebrows raised in disbelief, "what are you doing here? I thought Irina didn't want—?"

"Irina and I don't always share the same opinion, Carlisle," she says lightly. "She wanted to stay; I considered it my duty to come. We both did what we thought was best."

"Well, thank you," he replies, more composed (still surprised). "We're grateful to have your help."

She gives him a demure smile. "It's my pleasure."

The world seems to stand still for a moment, watching her. Then Tanya shifts.

"I'm quite certain I heard you ask for a fight, young one," she very nearly sings to Edward. "Are you still up for the challenge?"

"I'm not so young anymore," he replies, but crouches nonetheless.

She laughs, and he remembers when it was the most beautiful sound in the world. "You will always be young to me, Edward," she murmurs, almost resignedly, and pounces.

When they move, it is a beautiful thing. Their actions are in perfect harmony, his left to her right, her "fighting, of course!" to his "what are you doing here?," his "I have a girlfriend now" to her "haven't you missed me?" They blur together until there is no Edward and there is no Tanya: there is only EdwardandTanya, moving together as one. They blur together until there is no Bella Swan.

Suddenly, fleetingly, their world halts its dizzying dance. Eyes slowly adjust.

Edward is sprawled on his back, eyes wide in surprise. And perched on top of him, crouched on his chest, is Tanya. She leans her head down and places a kiss on the tip of his nose.

(this world is moving too fast, the colors are too bright, the sounds are too loud)

"You cheated," he accuses half-heartedly, and a dark smile lights her lips as she glances imperceptibly to Bella.

"You cheated first."

His eyes narrow; her smile tightens and she springs to her feet.

"You're as awful as ever, Edward," she laughs, extending a hand to him. "Has our time apart done nothing for you?"

He ignores her hand and stands on his own.

"Our time apart has opened up a whole new world for me," he says, and keeps his voice mild. "I can't say the same for you, though, can I?"

She stiffens, and a tension fills the air between them.

"You're as charming as ever, young one," she replies, a cold edge to her tone.

Behind them, in a world apart from their own, Emmett snorts and whispers loudly to Rosalie, "Damn, I've missed this girl!"

The atmosphere shatters. Tanya floats to Emmett and their laughter fills the air. Bella, in a world he has learned to love, eyes Edward apprehensively. Edward drifts to her side and glances at Tanya.

She's watching him through her lashes, telling him something he can't ignore.

He knows the look in her eyes, knows why she's here. There's only _one_ vampire who's her concern.


	2. and when you swept me off my feet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight, New Moon, or Eclipse, which were all written by Stephenie Meyer.

**Prompt: **July 12 / the perfect knockout

* * *

_and when you swept me off my feet_

The first time he sees her, he can't imagine a more beautiful woman.

He's admiring the work done to the engine of a Mercedes Benz, thinking he'd never be able to fix it up so nicely, thinking that up until now, he was under the allusion that only Rosalie was this skilled.

He hears humming and thoughts of not gaudy red leather interiors.

She walks into view. He blinks.

She's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Her face hasn't quite lost the touch of adolescence, but in the high cheekbones and the pouting lips and the intelligent sparkle in her eyes, he can sense ten lifetimes of wisdom. She's got strawberry blonde hair, frizzy and curly, falling out of two loosely bound braids that trail down her back. The lithe frame she no doubt has is hidden under a grease-strained gray tee and a too worn, too big pair of overalls. A wrench swings from her finger.

Those overalls—those overalls and that wrench and that smear of grease on her cheek—they remind him of Rosalie. But Rosalie, she never looked like this in her overalls, she never looked like this, like _sexy_.

Sexy. He's never thought that about any woman before.

The startled look disappears from her face and is replaced with recognition. She smiles and he sucks in a lungful of air. She has a _lovely _smile.

"You must be Edward!" she says brightly, extending a hand toward him. "Irina mentioned that you and your family had arrived."

Her voice is like, is like silk, but with none of the smoothness. It has an edge, a coarseness, a beautiful rough texture like the Olympic Mountain Range or work-worn hands. It's a soothing, low sound; an alto to Rosalie's soprano. Like the wind blowing through his hair when he thinks it might be whispering something to him.

She withdraws her hand slowly, and he blinks before realizing it was because he didn't return the gesture.

"Ah…" He shakes his head, infinitesimally, before smiling at her (almost shyly). "You must be—"

_Tanya_, her mind supplies, and he repeats it (almost shyly).

The corners of her lips raise, a gentle little smile, and her mind tells him, _What a strange young thing_.

"This—this is yours?" he questions, at a loss in a situation he can't quite understand. He gestures to the car behind him.

She nods and sidles up next to him, running her fingers protectively along the hood of the car. "Do you like cars, Edward?" she asks, and her eyes catch his.

He forces himself to answer. "They're a hobby of mine. But I'm nothing compared to Rosalie…."

She laughs. "I've just met Rosalie. She's quite a beautiful girl." She pauses, and then, nonchalantly, "Are you two…?" Her eyes lock on his and he feels like she already knows.

"No." He shakes his head. "No, of course not. Rosalie and I would hardly make a suitable pair."

She nods and observes him for a moment, humming quietly to herself.

His brow furrows under her stare as he listens to her. The thoughts pouring from her mind are in a different language, one he has yet to learn.

Suddenly, she smiles and he's lost again.

"You and I, Edward," she murmurs sweetly, and rests her hand on his, "are going to be very good friends."

His eyes widen. The way she says it makes him think that friendship isn't the only thing she has in mind.


	3. if i said i'd been waiting

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight, New Moon, or Eclipse, which were all written by Stephenie Meyer.

**Prompt: **July 14 / only in fairy tales

**Author's Notes:** Go to Stephenie Meyer's website ( www(dot)stepheniemeyer(dot)com ) and check out today's quote of the day (it's number three). It made me pretty happy. :)

* * *

_if I said I'd been waiting, it would be a lie_

She can smell him ten miles away. His scent reminds her of youth and innocence and flirtatious nights listening to jazz.

She flies to her room and slips into her white dress, the one of eyelet lace, the one he never told her but she knows is his favorite. She smoothes her curls. The doorbell rings. _(and she thinks to herself, _maybe, maybe this time_...)_

She dances down the stairs and throws open the door. She's got his smile on her face, the sweet, fallen-angel one, the one he never told her but she knows he likes so much.

"Edward!" she gasps like she's surprised, and then it _is_ surprise.

There, tucked under his arm, all pale white skin and unsatiated hunger and blood red eyes, is a newborn vampire.

"Tanya," is all he says, but she can hear so much more.


	4. erase the past from my mind

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight, New Moon, or Eclipse, which were all written by Stephenie Meyer.

**Prompt: **July 17 / fall from grace

* * *

_erase the past from my mind_

(+)

He tells Bella she's his first kiss only because he doesn't want to remember.

(+)

Once upon a time, there was a vampire named Edward.

(+)

The Temptation.

_She is standing in the snow, her white dress billowing around her in the wind. Her strawberry blonde curls fly behind her like a beacon, drawing him in._

_He approaches her cautiously, red eyes alert._

_Her mouth opens, and her smooth laughter rings in the air. She gestures him closer. _

_"Don't be afraid, Edward," she says, all kind words and sweet appearance. "I'm not going to hurt you."_

_He stands in front of her; she offers him her hand._

_Her smile is so inviting._

(+)

The Fall.

_He stares at the book in his hands, eyes not taking in the words. They are sitting together on her couch. She is reading an English book._

_Her thoughts are always in Slovakian. _

_"Edward?"_

_He turns to look at her; she's staring up at him through her pale lashes. She thinks something he can't understand._

Lost in translation_, he notes sardonically, and then she leans forward and kisses him._

_He doesn't know what to do but kiss her back._

(+)

The Assent.

_They sit, side by side, on the cliff; their legs dangle off the edge. She's wearing a bright yellow dress. He thinks it brings out the red in her hair._

_She gently slips her hand within his. An Irish tune plays in her head like a record._

_The sun breaks over the mountain, flooding the precipice with light. He turns to look at her. She shimmers softly in the light, a breeze playing with her hair._

_He leans over and kisses her delicately. She presses her lips to his and smiles into his touch._

(+)

The Repentance.

_"I'm sorry," he says, and for a moment, all she looks is profoundly sad._

_"I want you to have something," she tells him, taking his hand in hers. She places it over her cold stone heart._

_He stares at her, his eyes so innocent and young. In her mind, she says something; the words scream with an implication that crosses all barriers (_it is yours_). His eyes harden._

_"No," he whispers, withdrawing his hand. "I don't deserve it."_

_Her hand falls. She leans forward on her toes and brushes her lips against his cheek._

_"You love me," she murmurs. He's already gone._

(+)

Once upon a time, Edward was in love.

(+)

He tells Bella she's his first kiss only because he doesn't want to remember.


	5. here in your arms i find my rest

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight, New Moon, or Eclipse, which were all written by Stephenie Meyer.

**Prompt: **July 19 / in spite of everything--

* * *

_here in your arms I find my rest _

She knew he was coming, of course.

Rosalie — her smug contempt threatening to snap the wavering thread of friendship that rejection had spun between them — was the one who had called.

"He left this morning," she had said, as if the idea of Edward freighting through existence (melodrama his fuel) was hardly news to her. And then, her voice hardly loud enough to hear: "Poor wrinkled Bella died in the night."

(She couldn't be sure if Rosalie had whispered the statement with longing or relief.)

So here Tanya sat, hands folded in her lap, unblinking eyes locked on the door. Waiting. Waiting.

She stood, smoothed out her dress. There was knock at the door.

Her hand rested on the doorknob. Thoughts of comfort, those hallmark phrases of empty feelings, waited on the tip of her tongue, waited for the onslaught of bottled emotion that Edward always had in ready supply.

The door swung open.

His pale skin was snow white, his eyes coal black (red-rimmed). His hands were trembling. His mind was screaming.

And then, Edward ran in through the door. He ran into her arms. (He ran into her lips.)

And for some reason… she let him.


	6. this endless road down which I travel

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight, New Moon, or Eclipse, which were all written by Stephenie Meyer.

**Prompt: **July 20 / the world in all its colors

**Author's Notes: **With very little exception, this is basically where I think Stephenie Meyer could take Tanya's character (it would suit SMeyer's character style). However, I think Meyer might be a little more adventurous with Tanya _because_ she's a minor character and doesn't need to be developed as profoundly as our main characters. Basically, I can see Tanya taking one of two very different roads personality-wise: 1, the road you would expect from Meyer; or 2, the road I think Meyer might take Tanya down (aka the unexpected). Either way, I'm excited. :)

* * *

_this endless road down which I travel_

"Edward!" she says, and kisses both of his cheeks. "How sweet of you to visit me on my birthday!"

He blinks, startled, then remembers. January 18th. Tanya's birthday. The day after he met his la tua cantante.

"Of course," he replies, and smiles. "Why else would I drop by?" _(Certainly not to avoid eating Isabella Swan, no of course not!)_

She ushers him inside, sits him down, puts in his favorite CD _(how did she know?)_. The familiar jazz relaxes him; the familiar smell of Tanya surrounds him. He pushes aside Bella Swan.

She settles down into a worn leather chair across from him. Her hair spills over a cream turtleneck, the one he's always been partial to, and her eyes twinkle.

"It's my thousandth birthday, you know," she says, and he does know. He can read it in her mind and in Irina's mind and in the giant "1000" that hangs over the doorway.

"You learn many things in a thousand years, Edward," she murmurs, her voice drifting. "I've traveled the world; I've seen so many things. I've experienced ten lifetimes and yet I'm still not a day over twenty-three."

She laughs, suddenly, and he stares at her.

Shaking her head (those curls bounce), she admits, "Isn't it strange to wish to get older? To get wrinkles and sore bones and a fading memory?" Her eyes meet his. "Is that strange, Edward?"

He regards her for a long time, sifting through her mind for the thoughts he can understand (he thinks about himself). And finally he whispers, "No, I don't think that's strange at all."

"Humans wish they had our immortality," she says, drawing her knees to her chest. "We wish we could taste mortality once again."

He doesn't reply, only watches her from across the room. She looks all her thousand years in her twenty-three-year-old body. Her thoughts are trailing through different languages, different memories, different stages of her never-ending life, but they all twang with a similar feeling, a similar longing.

"Do you know what I've always wanted, Edward?" she asks, a finger coiling a strand of hair. "What I'll always want more than anything?"

He shakes his head because he honestly doesn't know. Quietly, "What have you always wanted?"

"I've always wanted to fall in love."

His eyebrows arch in surprise, and she shakes her head, as if disappointed with him.

"Why else would I have been so thrilled to meet you, Edward? You gave me hope."

He stutters out, "I gave you… hope?"

She shrugs and tugs on a strand of hair again. "Ever since I first met you, I thought, perhaps…"

"I would be the one," he finishes.

She nods, and lets go of the coil of hair. It springs back into place.

"Your family — Carlisle and Esme, Rosalie and Emmett, Jasper and Alice — they have what they need. But vampires like us, Edward, the lonely ones… we'll always be lacking. I've tried to fix that about myself." She chews her lip for a moment, then admits, "That's how I got my reputation."

"Your reputation?"

"As a succubus. Seducing men, being loved by them… I was good at what I did. But it wasn't _enough_." She looks up at him and he recognizes the desolate look of a vampire wishing they could cry. "I wanted someone who could truly love me."

He blinks, and says slowly, "I understand."

She gives a sharp laugh. "Do you really? Have you ever experienced real love, Edward?"

He doesn't say anything; he doesn't need to. They both know the answer.

"I _have_, Edward." Her eyes are dark, her mind is dark. "Don't give yourself more credit than you deserve."

He stares at her, unsure of how to respond. She looks away.

"Forgive me; sometimes I forget just how young you truly are." She shakes her head delicately and says, "Let me explain myself.

"When I was human, Edward, I had a family. I had a mother and a father and a brother. I had a husband and a beautiful daughter. I know what it's like to be loved and wanted forever. I lost that, and for the past nine-hundred-seventy-seven years, I've been trying to get it back."

Her eyes sparkle as they lock with his. "The world is full of life, Edward. People who live and love and die. Don't you ever wish you could be one of them?"

He sits perfectly still for a moment, then nods. "I wish I could die and see heaven."

"And I wish I could see my husband's face again." She doesn't say it spitefully or mockingly, just with painful honesty.

"But we're cursed, you and I, Edward," she continues, "forced to exist in this world without what would make us truly live."

His eyes flicker to her, her porcelain features, her strawberry blonde curls, her endless intelligence. He offers her his hand. "We can try it," he says quietly. "You and I, we could work."

She shakes her head and laughs, as if he is a naïve child. "Our chance is past, Edward. Perhaps, when you're older, when you've seen the world in all its colors… but not now."

He withdraws his hand, heart oddly torn. "I can wait, Tanya."

She shakes her head again. "I'm a thousand years old, Edward. If I was meant to find someone… but you. You're young. Find someone to spend your forever with."

"What if I can't find anyone?" He swallows. "What if I want it to be you?"

She smiles softly. "Then you'll know where to find me."

He looks down, suddenly embarrassed, and whispers, "I should go."

She walks him to the door with her hand on his elbow. He opens it, then pauses.

"In ten years, can we—?"

"Edward…" She places her hand on his cheek. "Give yourself time."

He frowns. "Twenty?"

She laughs, and her hand slides from his cheek. "How about seventy? Or is that too long for you?"

"No." His hand brushes hers. "That's not too long."

She smiles and says sweetly, "Goodbye, Edward. Thank you for visiting me on my birthday."

He kisses her softly on the cheek and replies, "It was my pleasure."

She watches him run away and thinks about what Kate's seen, the human girl, the love of his eternal life.

She only wishes she could have the same.


	7. you remind me of simpler days

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight, New Moon, or Eclipse, which were all written by Stephenie Meyer.

1 - Quote from Stephenie Meyer's "Quote of the Day" for July 14th (number 3 on her master list).

**Prompt: **July 23 / wake up kick

**Author's Notes: **Completely different than the last chapter. Is anyone else hoping Tanya will come to the wedding?

* * *

_you remind me of simpler days_

They're sitting on the front steps, the long grass around them waving lazily in the light breeze. Weak sunlight trickles in through the trees and his skin is like diamonds, like shattered glass. Her warm fingers trace absentmindedly along his palm.

And then, like the scent of Bella's blood, it hits him. His entire body stiffens; Bella does too.

"What is it, Edward?" she whispers, fingers clenching around his wrist.

After a long moment, he relaxes. He smiles at her, drags his eyes away from the forest only long enough to meet hers. "It seems we have an unexpected visitor," he says, and the forest bursts into light.

There, walking out from among the trees, glowing pale as an angel and glistening like freshly drawn blood, is a vampire.

Bella sucks in a breath the same time he does.

She crosses the distance quickly, her shimmering face defining, the features as flawless and ancient as his memory reminds him. She stands before him, her succubae reputation in shining view, and offers him her hand.

He takes it and stands, as if he never had a choice (but since when did he?).

Her arms slide around his waist; his arms lock around her shoulders. Suddenly their swept up in a lovers' reunion that doesn't quite fit, but he can't seem to bear to let go.

"Ah, Edward," she whispers into his chest, her arms pulling him tighter. "I've missed you." 1

He murmurs into her hair, "And I you." His eyes are closed against her strawberry blonde curls, he doesn't remember happening.

The moment seems to last forever. Then, in a feeble voice: "Um… Edward?"

He pulls away as if bitten, mortification written across his features. Bella looks confused, one hand poised halfway toward Edward, as if she'd meant to touch him and paused. Their visitor only smiles.

"Bella — Bella, this is Tanya. Tanya, this is Bella." (He seems to choke on Tanya's name both times.)

Tanya tilts her head. "This is your human, Edward?"

He scowls and corrects, "My fiancée."

"Of course." Her lips pull down for a moment, then transform into a stunning smile. "Hello, Bella," she murmurs, extending her hand. "Edward's told me so much about you."

Bella cautiously takes her hand, eyes still suspicious. "He's told me some things about you too, Tanya."

Tanya's eyes flicker to him, then to Bella; they travel up her throat and down her arm, to their clasped hands. Slowly, she drags Bella's wrist to her mouth and inhales. The girl looks terrified.

Tanya lets go. "She doesn't smell nearly as ravishing as you'd described, Edward."

He frowns and mutters, "She's my la tua cantante, Tanya, you know that." _(But suddenly he's not so sure.)_

"You know, Bella," she says, and the girl looks startled at being addressed, "I thought I had that once… la tua cantante." She looks reminiscent for a moment, then shakes her head and laughs. "But as it turned out, he wasn't my type." A playful wink is thrown at Edward. He frowns.

"Well, if you don't mind excusing me, I'd like to go greet the rest of the Cullens!" Tanya leans in and places a dainty kiss on Bella's cheek. "It was lovely meeting you, Bella."

She leans in, places a kiss on Edward's cold stone cheek, lips moving silently _(if you ever change your mind)_. She floats inside, her scent trailing behind her.

Edward inhales, remembers her still-familiar scent. Thoughts swirl through his mind and mingle with the ones that aren't his. He thinks of Jacob Black; of Jacob Black putting Bella back together again; of Bella's love for Jacob Black; of Jacob Black's love for Bella; of his own love for Bella; _(of his love for Tanya;)_ of a human Bella with a human Jacob and a human life; of his life with someone a little colder and a little harder and a little less dangerous to love.

He thinks of how Tanya's scent makes his mouth water.

Edward's wedding has never seemed so close.

* * *

**Author's Note/Disclaimer:  
**

1 - Quote from Stephenie Meyer's "Quote of the Day" for July 14th (number 3 on her master list).


	8. if only I were as human as I pretend

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight, New Moon, or Eclipse, which were all written by Stephenie Meyer.

**Prompt: **July 24 / death by embarrassment

**Author's Notes: **WATCH OUT: ATTEMPT AT HUMOR AHEAD!

* * *

_if only I were as human as I pretend to be_

There's a faint tension in the room; he can feel it in the air, hear it in their minds. Jasper won't look him in the eye, and his thoughts are trivial, purposely distracted.

Edward hides his face behind the book he's reading and attempts to return to the narrative. It proves difficult when Rosalie's voice pushes into his mind (_we all heard you last night, Edward, stop pretending we don't know what happened_).

Her dress rustles as she walks into the room; his body fills with dread. He can _hear_ Rosalie's smirk as she waits for something to unfold.

"Edward," Tanya's voice whispers smoothly into his ear. She slips her arms around his shoulders and plays with the buttons on his shirt. "Last night was fun."

The entire room stiffens. His book still conceals his face, but he can imagine the looks of curiosity and discomfort on the faces of his family. Rosalie's self-righteous smirk.

She straightens, her fingers trailing along his shoulders. She ruffles his hair playfully and murmurs, "Any time, Edward. You know where to find me."

She floats from the room but leaves the tension behind. He can hear the thoughts bouncing around the room; he doesn't move his book.

The silence seems never-ending. Then Emmett's booming laughter fills the room.

"Look's like Eddie's got himself a little girlfriend!"

Edward wishes he could die.


	9. fade into sweetest black

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, or Breaking Dawn, which were all written by Stephenie Meyer.

**Prompt: **August 9 / white it out

**Author's Notes: **This isn't anything good, but I need to start writing again, so here we are!

* * *

_fade into sweetest black_

Vampires remember everything.

Edward, more than anyone, resents this fact.

He remembers being human, the memories faded Polaroids that have nothing to back them but vague recollections and the warm feeling of what had been love and contentment.

He remembers every thought of every person he has ever encountered, those of vampire and werewolf and human alike. He files them in his head by chronology, and in a separate part of his mind altogether, by name. He can draw any thought at will and play it back with crystal clarity.

He remembers every second of his life as a vampire with exactness so sharp it's painful. He remembers the good times, the moments of love and contentment, but even they fade in comparison — the bad, the mistakes, _his_ mistakes, the angry words, the foolish helpless descent into sin, every kiss and every touch, _they_ burn brighter in his mind than any good memory.

But more than anything, more than his life as a human, more than all the thoughts he's heard, more than the memories of his entire existence, he remembers _her_.

He can see her in his mind as clearly as if she was standing in front of him (_or pressed beneath him_). He remembers hearing her thoughts mingling with his own; they had stood out sharp in every conversation he'd been within hearing range of, highlighted and bold even as he'd tried to force them out.

She haunts his memories in a way he can never forget.

He resents it, his flawless memories, his unforgetting (unforgiving) mind. He resents that, once upon a time, he _could_ forget.

Human memories fade; he hears it happening every day. Humans, he thinks (and will later recall perfectly), are the luckiest creatures on earth. They live and they die, they grow and change. They _forget_.

Vampire Edward remembers every moment he spent with her, every moment he thought of her, every moment she thought of him. Vampire Edward remembers her perfectly, exactly, even as he holds his wife in his arms.

But human Edward… human Edward would forget all about Tanya. Human Edward's memories would fade, just like human memories are supposed to do, just like they always do. Tanya would fade.

But she doesn't.

After all, vampires remember forever.


	10. oh what a tangled web we weave

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, or Breaking Dawn, which were all written by Stephenie Meyer.

Written for 31days at livejournal, **prompt: **August 30 / beLIEve

* * *

_oh what a tangled web we weave_

_when first we practice to deceive_

— _sir walter scott_

.

What they have is a tangled web of half-true lies and masked deceit and eternity-long weariness and year upon year of self-loathing.

They don't have love; they have lust. They don't have companionship; they have justification. They don't have a reason, and they certainly don't need one.

At least, that's what they tell themselves.

.

She doesn't lie (to herself or to him) and pretend that she loves him, that she's not using him openly. She doesn't lie and pretend that he's nothing more than a half-decent lover and an excuse at entertainment.

A thousand years is a long time to live, and she needs something to fill the void.

.

He's had a hundred years to perfect the art of lying. He can breathe sweet nothings into her ear like he means them (she can see right through him), he can love her life she's his means of grace (the only one he's fooling is himself).

He can lie like an angel, but that doesn't mean anyone believes him.

.

Her life is timeless. A thousand years have passed — a thousand more will. She's seen it all, heard it all, learned and experienced and endured it all. The future lies before her like a well-worn page, memorized from beginning to end, dog-eared corner to ink spot of blue, known like she knows herself and the reoccurring dream (nightmare) of her forever life.

Their lips meet, and he brings her back to something forgotten, buried under the years, the easy lies, the feeling of teeth grazing flesh. He reminds her of what it feels like to live.

.

He likes to think that he loves her, that every kiss, every touch has a deeper meaning beyond animalistic lust; it's only a half-lie.

He doesn't love her; he doesn't love anyone. The feeling was lost long ago, along with the green eyes and burning heart and humanity.

But when he thinks of her, pale skin and flowing hair and pouting lips, soft body, warm, touchable flesh, he feels something.

He doesn't love her; he doesn't even love himself.

But he does love the way she makes him feel.

.

Hands reach; clothes flutter to the floor in ribbons. Lips are fierce against lips; pushing, persuading, a constant tease and a flicker of worth. She bites his skin and they both revel in his wild reaction.

She's addicted to that flame of life inside of him. He needs to be wanted like a drug.

They give each other purpose, and that all they could ever ask for.


End file.
